


held back the flood, until the sky fell

by sexyspork



Series: but my hope is burning [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Female Obi-Wan Kenobi, Gen, Mace Windu Safe Space, Menstruation discussion, Obi-Wan's self worth issues, Pregnant Obi-Wan Kenobi, Quinlan Vos is Sir Not Appearing in this Fic, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unreliable Narrator, lowkey discussion about possible rape, the Force wants a baby since her last one fucked up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 13:36:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18942061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexyspork/pseuds/sexyspork
Summary: Obi-Wan's head is splitting, sunlight shining brightly through the vast windows overlooking Coruscant from the Council's chambers.Prequel to t'was grace that brought us safe thus far.





	held back the flood, until the sky fell

**Author's Note:**

> This one is nowhere near as fluffy as the first, my bad.

Obi-Wan's head is splitting, sunlight shining brightly through the vast windows overlooking Coruscant from the Council's chambers. She's squinting against the glare, trying so hard to pay attention to Plo, but no matter how much she draws on the Force, it slips through her grasp like water, tantalizingly cool but refusing to allow her any respite for the burning pain ravaging her system.

She is almost _forty_. She's almost forty and it feels like a brassmule has kicked her solidly in the abdomen, and the scent of Yoda's tea is making her nauseous. She's almost forty and bleeding and by all the little Force gods and goddesses, she will drag Quinlan out by the hair in celebration when her body gives up the ridiculous notion of menstruation and all the horrible, terrible things that go along with it.

"Obi-Wan?" 

She blinks her eyes open, not really sure when she closed them in the first place, taking far longer than it should to focus on Mace and the concern beginning to creep over his visage. "Are you alright?"

She opens her mouth, but for all of Obi-Wan's silver tongued prowess, not a single sound passes her lips. Closing her eyes against the light that seems to be getting brighter, she takes a deep, fortifying breath and the Force-

The Force screams out in triumph like a thunderclap, and darkness rushes up to protect her, because she is _burning_ and everything fades away in an instant.

\--

Without even opening her eyes, she knows she's in the Halls of Healing. Obi-Wan immediately regulates her heartbeat, careful to keep it even and steady to prevent any alerts to the Healers. She's also quick to keep any spikes of shame locked away behind her shields, though all she wants to do is curl up in her bed and weep from the mortification at her loss of control. It has been _years_ since her cycle has affected her so, been decades since the shameful, gut wrenching memories of curling up under Quinlan's warm bulk, trying to stifle her sobs to prevent Qui-Gon from hearing and making him question her worth as a Padawan.

She never thought anything could be worse than her cycle interfering with missions during her teenage years, but to have one lay her out flat _in front of the entire Council_? Tears prick at the corners of her eyes from the humiliation.

"Obi-Wan."

Her name is spoken softly, with care, and part of her rails against Mace for a moment, but in the end, Obi-Wan opens her eyes as she releases everything into the Force. It feels strangely contented and almost _smug_ , but it soothes away the jagged edges of her control. 

She meets Mace's deep brown eyes, but there is a tightness around them that hadn't been there before her collapse, a pale washed out gray to the deep earth tone of his skin that aged him several decades in the last few hours. Obi-Wan reaches out to him without thinking, before realizing this wasn't Anakin, and her gestures of familiar, tactile comfort may not be welcome. Surprisingly, he reaches the rest of the way, taking her much smaller hand in his own, and a sliver of unease snakes it way down her spine as he leans forward in the chair at her bedside.

"Obi-Wan we are about to have a very difficult conversation, but I need to you be honest with me." His voice is soft, but steady, and Obi-Wan nods as she realizes a Healer has yet to make an entrance, and the unease blossoms into full blown alarm. At this moment she is grateful for the shadows in the room, the lights low and the setting sun an apt backdrop for the roiling, turbulent emotions battering violently at her hard won serenity. 

"There is no easy way to say this, so my apologies for being blunt, but you're pregnant."

Obi-Wan just stares at him, mind screeching to a halt, shaking her head no in a sharp, uneven motion even as he remains calm in the face of her denial. "That's impossible. I'm not-- I haven't-- I'm on my _cycle_."

He grimaces, but continues to meet her gaze head on. "Implantation bleeding, as the healers described it."

Obi-Wan jerks her hand away from his, desperate to sit up and recover some measure of her tattered dignity. Anger is building, but she holds it, controls and tempers it into the sharp edge of a knife's blade. "I haven't taken anyone to bed for almost two _years_ , Mace."

She remembers Garen's laughter as she shoved him into his quarters, the sound of rain washing over them in the hush of Coruscant's early morning. The war had been _over_ and they had been drunk on the relief of being alive and the despair that so many others were not. She had felt so completely and utterly _alone_ , adrift in her isolation, and had wanted to feel _something_ , wanted that visceral reminder that this wasn't so much an end, but rather a beginning, and Garen had needed the same reassurances.

Mace closes his eyes for a moment, but she doesn't miss the belief in them as he hands her a piece of flimsi. She settles back down, trying to make sense of the words because **Pregnancy Confirmed** is as alien to her as all of the Unknown Regions. 

Obi-Wan swallows dryly, throat clicking harshly in the quiet of the room. Mace is watching her steadily, without judgement, and she reaches back out to take his hand with a desperation most unfitting of a Jedi Master. He once again meets her half-way, and she is almost dizzy with relief that she counts the Korun amongst those she calls her closest friends.

"Did you have any moments of blackouts in the last two weeks? Waking up where you couldn't explain?" And there's the anger she's been expecting, carefully channeled and ready to be unleashed, and Obi-Wan can only shake her head silently. She lets go of the flimsi and draws in a deep, centering breath.

"How long?"

"Ten days or so is Vokara's best estimate, but it's too early to tell anything else."

"Too early to do a DNA test as well." She murmurs, but the thought doesn't sit right and she considers it fully, the Force humming with a gentle tease but otherwise offering no guidance.

"Did you feel it, before I collapsed? Like a bomb had gone off?"

Mace considers her with dark eyes, "Yes and no. To me, it was a Shatterpoint, and you have so many new ones primed to go off around you, it almost hurts to look at you. The others all felt something, but their assessment of the situation is far more unclear."

"I think," Obi-Wan says slowly, measuring the words with consideration, drawing comfort from his steady presence. "I don't think there is a father."

And like a bell, the Force rings with the truth. 

Mace sighs with a look of almost fond exasperation that she'd grown to know quite well during her padawan years, "I was afraid you'd say that."

**Author's Note:**

> Still undecided about end pairing, so please yell at me in the comments with any thoughts or ideas, because that is literally the reason I write.
> 
>  _Out in the darkness I saw an angel_  
>  _Held back the flood, until the sky fell_  
>  _I see the future covered in roses_  
>  _Waves of gold as the door closes_  
>  Sirens by Fleurie


End file.
